


Apocalypses and Life

by reiirae, Thisiswhatmylifehasbecome



Series: RayWood [5]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: M/M, Sad with a Happy Ending, zombie apocalypse AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 14:53:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10924134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reiirae/pseuds/reiirae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thisiswhatmylifehasbecome/pseuds/Thisiswhatmylifehasbecome
Summary: Zombie apocalypses were just the stuff of movies...until now.- Ray's perspective.





	1. Beginning of the End

I was pretty certain that, despite the obsession humans seem to share over the idea of a zombie apocalypse, it’d never be a reality. It just wasn’t _logical_. I may have failed high school science, but I knew a thing or two about biology. So when the outbreak first happened, I didn’t take it seriously. It started far away, and there were few people infected. People figured it’d be controlled and forgotten about, like some kind of bad dream.

Except it wasn’t. The infection spread throughout towns, then cities, then states, and soon the entire country had a population of infected humans.

The first thing everybody did was panic. They tried to control the infection by burning entire towns and villages, sending in military officials to slaughter as many of this god-forsaken creatures as they possibly could. All the efforts proved useless. The infection continued, despite how many of these people – creatures, you couldn’t possibly consider them human anymore – were killed. 

And somehow, Ryan and I survived all this bullshit. He dragged me out of the city as fast as possible, gathering as much as we could carry between the two of us before setting off to hit the countryside before night fell. The cities had higher population densities, so we could only assume higher infection rates. The countryside seemed like the best place to run to.

We kept moving, every day. It was tiring. We’d make as much progress as possible, skirting around towns and sticking to the cover of trees. Occasionally, we’d come across a few zombies or infected humans, still stuck in that purgatory between human and zombie. One of us would shoot them, usually – put them out of their misery. We had a lot of close calls. Despite the high infection rates, the remaining humans seemed to have had a similar idea to us, and there were many fights over the limited supplies. Both of us were running on little, trying to save our scarce resources and only eat and drink when completely necessary. Good sleep was a thing of the past – often, Ryan would stay up through the night to keep guard, despite my constant offers to remain on watch whilst he got a few precious hours of sleep. His refusal didn’t surprise me; he’d never been a man who slept much.

We stuck together through all this, refusing to leave each other’s sides for more than a few moments. We had a silent trust, mostly because neither of us talk all that often in fear of our voices carrying on the wind and alerting others to our presence, and we knew the risks of exactly what we were trying to do. 

Regardless of what happens, I refuse to give in now. It’s all I can do to hope the both of us survive this and find whatever’s next.


	2. Inevitability

In this kind of world, you had to be fast. Survival of the fittest at its finest, I suppose you could say. Then again, the fact I’m still alive doesn’t quite match up to that. Nonetheless, you had to keep moving. Staying in one place for any longer than a night was suicide. Once a zombie caught your scent, they would not drop it until they’re dead or find something more interesting to tail. We learnt that early on, when we hit a city to try and gather more supplies. It took a long while to shake that one. 

A lot of them are, admittedly, fairly slow. They have little left of their mobility – the bacteria started decaying their limbs a few weeks after the initial infection – so they’re not too difficult to outrun. The fresher ones pose the biggest threat. The bacteria still hasn’t fully set in, and their mobility is only slightly less than that of a human. The only thing you can do is keep a distance and pray one doesn’t get a hold of you.

The days when you find yourself absolutely swarmed by them are the days I can’t bear. Sometimes we’ll drop into a city to try and find supplies, food, ammunition – anything we can get our hands on. You’ll possibly get lucky. Probably not. But it’s those days where we’re more open to attack, too. You can turn your back for a few minutes and find a swarm of zombies approaching at their slow, ambling pace. They have strength in numbers, though, and you might as well give up once they’re upon you. Those days give me nightmares. I don’t tell Ryan – I don’t want him worrying about me more than he already does – but I suspect he already knows.

We’d hit a city today, despite my protests at the pure size of it and the chances of infection, but Ryan was persistent. The promise of supplies and maybe even some kind of half-decent shelter for the night convinced me, pushing away the voice in my head telling me this was a terrible idea. We hadn’t even been there long before they were upon us. And fuck, there were too many. Far too many. We were surrounded in mere minutes. 

Really, I should have known better. I shouldn’t have let any of them get so close. I moved to reload my gun, and- 

There it was. A hand gripped my shoulder; a hand that wasn’t Ryan’s. A few moments passed before I managed to get my throat to work, managed to scream out a hoarse, “Ryan!”

It wasn’t enough. I wish I could tell you that Ryan ran in, saved my life, and we got outta there and fucking sprinted away as fast as possible. But we didn’t. I saw him turn, felt jaws close around my shoulder, felt a scream tear from my throat, felt my own warm blood splatter across my face, felt my body collide with the concrete, and finally, darkness.


	3. Goodbye, I Love You

He carried me to the first shelter he could find, narrowly avoiding getting bitten himself. He laid me down the minute he could be sure we were safe from any unwanted guests, and pressed his hands against the wound. His hands were shaking badly, murmuring aggressively under his breath, his voice inaudible to me. “Rye… Rye, it’s okay,” I mutter softly, carefully laying a hand on top of his in an attempt to reassure him.

“No. This isn’t supposed to end this way.” he spat back, his voice desperate, almost hysterical, “We were supposed to outlive this! We’re supposed to- to get _married_ and have this stupid house in the suburbs. We’re supposed to die together at the ripe old age of eighty and instead you’re dying _in my arms_ like some fucking movie bullshit!”

He stops when he sees the tears burning in the corners of my eyes, takes a deep breath and closes his own eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ryan, I didn’t mean for this to happen.” I mumble, coughing as blood begins to dribble out of my mouth. He presses his lips together in an expression that might have been a smile, if it weren’t for the fact I was dying. “Were…were you really gonna ask me to marry you?” I whisper softly, a small smile finding its’ way onto my face.

He nods, a ghost of a smile flickering across his face. “Yeah. I knew the moment I met you I was going to marry you.”

My own smile grew wider at those words, and I felt hot tears slip down my cheeks. “Will you ask me to marry you? I want to hear it before…before the inevitable has to happen.”

He nods, shifting closer to me and tightening his grip. I lean against his chest, watching a tear slide down his own face, mirroring mine. “Ray Narvaez Jr., will you marry me?”

My smile became one of genuine joy, my eyes fluttering shut as I nodded ever so slightly. “Of course I will. I love you, James Ryan Haywood.” My smile dropped, fading slowly as I begin to shake involuntarily. That’s a clear sign the infection is starting to set in. I gripped at Ryan’s hand desperately, as though he could take this all away and make me okay again. “I don’t wanna die, Rye. I don’t want to leave you. But I can feel the infection taking over…”

“Shh, baby, I know. I know.” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss my forehead, for what will likely be the last time. He lets go of the wound, wiping the blood from his hands before setting me on the ground. I shiver slightly, unable to decide whether it’s from the cold concrete touching my skin or the infection spreading further. Ryan stands before me, slowly pulling his gun from his pocket. I can see the heartbreak in his eyes, the tears threatening to spill over. He checks the chamber; I close my eyes. I hear the sound of him snicking the safety off, and I reopen my eyes briefly to meet his.

“Ryan…promise me you’ll make it through this.” I mumble, the words slurring as my breath becomes shallow and laboured. “Promise me…we’ll be together again one day.”

He nods - a very slight movement, as though any bigger movement would kill him there and then. More tears slip down his face. I close my eyes again as he begins to speak. “I promise. I’ll do it for you, Rose.” He pauses to take aim. “Hey, Ray? I love you.”

“I…love you too, asshole. So much. Now pull…that trigger.” I muttered, forcing myself to keep my eyes closed. I couldn’t bear to make his last memory of me a vision of heartbreak that I knew I would see reflected straight back at me through his eyes. 

“Goodnight, Rose.”


	4. Without You, But With Them

I didn’t die.

Or at least, something didn’t. My soul, maybe? I was vaguely aware of the bullet, and Ryan, but it was dark and blurry. After a few days, I began to regain something of consciousness. I wasn’t alive, but I was… _something_. A ghost, maybe? Who fucking knows? I wasn’t gonna question it.

Ryan had, surprisingly, remained close to the area. Almost as though he couldn’t leave. He moved about a little, but I picked him up and remained close to him. It made me mad that I couldn’t reassure him. Trust me, I tried. I’d shout, scream, do anything to try and grab his attention for just a few seconds, to no avail. The words just echoed in my head, never hitting his ears. Eventually I accepted the fact he’d never hear my voice catching on the wind, never turn and see me stood beside him.

It didn’t stop me tailing along beside him, keeping pace whenever possible. I’d watch him slaughter zombie after zombie, emotionless and somewhat dead as he did this. My heart ached at the sight, knowing I was powerless to comfort him.

A few months into it all, he joined a group of others. They seemed friendly enough – harboured no malicious intent as far as I could see. They were led by a man named Geoff, and seemed an odd combination of characters. Honestly, I can’t explain how they managed to make it out alive. He stayed with them, much to my personal happiness – I couldn’t bear the thought of him wandering aimlessly and alone again. These guys could help keep him safe. It was common sense to remain with them. They managed to almost bring out joy in him – it wasn’t quite the joy I’d known, but it was something. But anybody could see something was missing.

Nights were long – for Ryan, I knew they always had been. Insomnia plagued most of his nights. Sometimes I’d sit by his side as he cried into my hoodie, wishing I could wrap an arm around him and tell him everything would be alright, even though we could both see through that transparent lie. Other times I’d watch him punch the walls, screaming and crying in anguish and grief. I always wished I could calm him down after that, but again, there was nothing I could do.

My anniversary came around too soon, and it broke Ryan. I saw it in everything he did. He didn’t eat and he only drunk when he absolutely had to. It was all leading up to the night of my actual death, where I was forced to stand by and watch in complete horror as he managed to break to his own hand, punching the wall so forcefully until I heard the sickening crack of bone. It was Geoff who did what I wished I could’ve done – sat there in silence and just held him, waiting for the storm to pass. I stayed there too, leaning against Ryan’s other side, willing myself to be able to reach out and rest my hand upon his. Geoff bandaged his hand, and Ryan told him about me. I listened, my heart breaking with every word. His voice was one of a broken man, filled with grief. The others listened from the shadows. Ryan slept properly for the first time in years, exhausted by the expenditure of emotion.

Geoff and Gavin, one of the other members, kept close to his side from that day forth. I was eternally grateful – Gavin understood his pain, having lost his close friend Dan back in the early days of infection, and Geoff…Geoff was like a father to the entire group. They brought him back from rock bottom, slowly but surely.

Two years passed before anybody found a cure. I wanted to be happy, but I couldn’t shake the sadness at the thought that they’d never cure me. I’d never be by Ryan’s side as a human ever again, and I’d only ever see him again in death.

I’m proud of him. He kept his promise. I’m happy for him; truly, I am. I always wanted what’s best for him, in the end.


End file.
